“I have come to ask you only a small favor, elder mother,” he continued, ignoring the obvious goad. If she believed him to be a simpering fool, then all the better. “I do not know how much my mother Ilrenth has told you of me, but I am a practitioner and researcher of the arcane. I went to her asking for information on a particular ritual, and she mentioned you had witnessed this ritual take place.”
“What ritual?” Amaranthe asked, still looking away from him.
“A ritual to bond the souls of a fated pair,” he said, refusing to look away, even as she glanced back at him sharply.
“You have a fated mate?” she asked.
“No, I only ask out of curiosity,” he answered quickly. “My expertise is in the nature of magic, and I have wondered why a soul bonding ritual might be necessary if two dragons are already bound by fate.”
“I witnessed this ritual, yes,” Amaranthe said, looking away from him again and sounding much more disinterested. “It was devised when humans finally started developing the means to slay our kind. If one of a fated pair was to die, the other suffers for the remainder of its own life. With this ritual, the souls are bound together, so the slain dragon will be reborn into the next dragon hatched in the world, and the fated pair would be reunited after a time. I thought that would be obvious, especially to one who claims expertise of the arcane.”
That wasit, Adrissu thought, exactly what he was looking for—and he was so consumed with relief that he could easily ignore her pointed jab.
“I hoped you might remember the specifics of this ritual,” Adrissu said, pressing himself further into the stone, though it did not yield any more. When she hesitated for a beat, he added, “Or if you do not remember, if you might give me your recommendation to seek out the fated pair who performed it.”
“Tch,” she scoffed, rounding on him. “I remember it. Do not insult me.”
“Forgive this humble one, elder mother,” Adrissu rumbled, not daring to move, though internally he rolled his eyes. Predictable. “I meant no insult. Only that I am very eager to learn more about this ritual.”
“Clearly,” she muttered, before taking a few steps away. “Do not move. I will return shortly.”
He nodded as she moved beyond his line of sight and into darkness. In the quiet he could hear her steps echoing; it seemed as though there were many adjoining tunnels in her lair, making it a labyrinthine puzzle to any unwelcome visitors. He had no doubt her hoard was scattered between these tunnels; so close to the prying eyes and greedy hands of humans, it only made sense to make her belongings as difficult for non-dragons to access as possible. So he waited patiently, even though it felt like he remained motionless on the ground for the better part of an hour, and he longed to stretch his wings. Though his own lair was also far underground, this place had a damp smell that he did not like, and he was grateful for the ocean breeze that always filled his home.
Finally he could sense her presence again, and a moment later Amaranthe returned, holding a scroll in one claw. His heart leapt at the sight of it—could he be so lucky that she had recorded the ritual? Even as he had the thought, his excitement was tempered with distrust. If she did have it, he was sure she would not give it to him out of the generosity of her heart. It was only a question of what she wanted in exchange.
“The rumor, young Zamnes, is that you brought down an entire dwarven city when you broke off from your parents and made your own lair,” she said, eyeing him as she approached.
“This is true,” he said slowly. “But the city was small, and most of the dwarves had already evacuated. I only got to it before the elves did.”
“But I am sure their wealth left behind was not a small amount, no?”
There it was. “No, it was not a small amount,” he said slowly.
“Then I will offer you this,” she said, grasping the scroll in an outstretched claw. “Not only did I witness this soul binding ritual between the only two dragons I might consider myfriends, I helped them find ingredients to perform it. This is the list of necessary components and the runes of the ritual—I trust you can read runes, at least. You may have it, in exchange for something of such value.”
“You have my gratitude, elder mother,” he said, eyes locked on the scroll within her claws. He would not yet take it. “I only regret that I do not know you as personally as I know my mother Ilrenth, and this humble one wonders what items you might deem of similar value.”
She snorted, embers flickering from her nostrils. “Clearly I have more precious metal and gems than I could ever use. I do not want something like that. No, I understand you are the sort of drake that hoards knowledge above all else. I want some tome, some arcane text, that would give me power or protection of some sort. I am not picky, but I trust you will choose something to...impressyour venerated elder mother.”
Already he was filing through his mental list of tomes and texts. He could think of a few that might be appropriate, strong or flashy enough that she would accept it without suffering a great loss himself. He had little idea of what her magical ability was like.
“Yes, that can be arranged,” he said, eyes tracking the scroll as she passed it between her claws and moved to stand over him again. “I will return with it within the week.”
She eyed him for a moment, and he had the irritating thought that she was going to make him bring it first before giving him the scroll—but then with a rather disapproving sniff, she held the scroll out to him. Slowly he straightened enough to take it, shrinking back down to the ground once it was safely in his claws.
“Within the week,” she said, flashing a smile that showed all her teeth. “If I don’t receive it from you, Zamnes, both Ilrenth and I will be very upset, I’m sure.”
“You needn’t worry,” Adrissu said. “I give you my word. I’ll return.”
“Good,” she said, and turned. “I’ll be expecting you.”
“Goodbye for now,” he growled, before turning to go. His pulse raced with anticipation as he flapped his wings, ascending until he reached the opening of the mine once again. The very thing that he’d been hoping for was within his claws.
Chapter Ten
Hisluckwasincredible,Adrissu decided after reading the scroll that Amaranthe had given him. He had looked through it briefly before flying back to Saltspire Tower—luckily it had been a cloudy day, so he could fly during the day by staying hidden amongst clouds—but didn’t fully read through it until he’d arrived back at home. But when he settled at his desk, Vesper happily curled in his lap, it seemed...simple.A few alchemical ungents that were uncommon, but not especially rare, some that he already owned. The runes were specific, but those would be easy enough to copy down from the scroll itself. And finally, the blood of both partners—which made sense, considering the nature of the ritual. Briefly, he thought that he must be missing something: some crucial step that made the magic work. Could it really be so simple?
But the more he read over the scroll, the more he was convinced that wasit.The answer to all his worries was fully contained in this parchment: this spell he could cast with absolute certainty, so long as Ruan was willing.
